


The Greatest Feeling

by Daughter_of_the_Mountains



Series: Nadadel [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Big Brothers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Little Brothers, Sleepy Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daughter_of_the_Mountains/pseuds/Daughter_of_the_Mountains





	The Greatest Feeling

Óin isn't as bad a gêmadad as he might be. He keeps him fed, watered, helps him braid his mane of red hair and isn't half as strict as Adad could be.  Yes, there has been one or two hiccups and the odd shouting match, but these obstacles have been overcome, usually all by themselves!   
  
There is just one thing.   
  
_Bedtime_.   
  
His mother used to sit beside him, telling him a story, her own dark eyes bright, her bigger hand holding his. Then she would hug him tightly, kissing both cheeks and then his nose before finally saying ' goodnight' and going to usher his brother to bed.  
After she died, he did have his father who tried his best to follow Sannith's footsteps. Gróin didn't have the first clue of creating a story, but shared memories and tales with him if he came from the mines early enough. If he came home late, he always sank straight into his favourite armchair. This was a cue, as far as his secondborn was concerned, to pad out of bed and curl up beside him. His father always sighed and gently chided him for not being asleep, but would cuddle him, carefully cup his face and kiss his forehead. And then he'd sigh more because there would be coal smudges on his younger son's face. But he would always let him stay for a short while before sending him to bed.   
When his father had begun to Fade, he had been worried about hurting him accidentally by getting too close and it had taken many assurances that his adad was not so frail that a cuddle would harm him before he felt comfortable snuggling up beside him.   
  
Things are different now. Óin could never be accused of being cruel or unkind, but the thought of going to him and even hinting that he wants a cuddle makes him feel hot. He is not a child, he is very nearly an adult and wanting to snuggle up with his brother is ridiculous.   
  
Though he seems to recall that Balin and Dwalin are always quite happy to hug and headbutt each other.   
  
Then again, they also like to fight each other.   
  
The fact is, he can't get to sleep very easily and when he does , he wakes up frequently, feeling empty and uneasy. Last night, he'd even gotten out of bed to go next door and climb into Óin's bed, but had forced himself to go back to his own bed.   
  
He wants to find out if Óin would accept this, but how can he ask?  He doesn't know and he's been thinking about how he can ask, how he can hint toward this need... Last night, he just decided to go to bed after his brother does. This way he won't be kept awake, waiting for a goodnight hug that will never come.   
  
Now, he is sitting beside his brother, feeling tired, but not willing to go to bed. Not until after Óin goes. 

* * *

  
  
Mahal, is this truly the time?! One hour to midnight and his nadadith not in bed! Óin puts his study-book down and gently shakes Glóin's shoulder. He's been quite sleepy recently and Óin wishes he had seen the time earlier than this.   
  
"Bedtime, nadadith."  
  
"No."  
  
Oh, no. He's too tired for an argument about bedtimes. "Yes, nadadith. Go to bed now, please."  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
"I can _see_ that you're tired, little brother, now go to bed."  
  
"I. Don't. Want. To."  
  
Trying his best to remain patient, Óin takes a deep breath. "Why not? Usually you're very good with bedtimes."  
  
Glóin crosses his arms. They're still slim and covered in the softer hair of all young Dwarflings, but the action is reminiscent of Gróin and Óin bites his lip, whether to stop laughter or tears, he doesn't know.   
  
"Why should I have to explain?"  
  
Óin wonders what Gróin would say if either of his sons had demanded a reason for why they would have to explain themselves to him. He gives Glóin a gently reproachful look. His brother looks abashed and mumbles an apology.  
  
"I forgive you." He pulls his brother into his arms, hugging him tight. Glóin clings to him as he did at Adad's funeral, burying his head into his shoulder. Óin wonders what's going on in his mind. "Have you got anything to tell me?"  
  
"Mmnnnnnn."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Haven't got nothin'!"  
  
"Aye, I've no doubt you don't have nothin' to tell me."Glóin gives him a baleful look. Óin pretends to look quizzical as though he hasn't a clue why his brother appears so irate. "Come now, nadadith, " he says, pulling him closer and putting his _I'm-your-big-brother-you-can-tell-me-anything_ look on his face. "You must tell me if anything is worrying you."  
  
Glóin wriggles. Good. This means he's nearly at the point of admitting what is wrong. He looks up at Óin with his doe-like black eyes and bites his lip.   
  
"I... I can't sleep at night."

* * *

  
  
"What?"  
  
Oh, Mahal's stones! Why did he have to say that?! He can sleep, just not well or easily. He quickly explains this and Óin's eyebrows furrow in confusion.   
  
"But," says his brother, "you are always sleeping when I check on you at night!"  
  
"I'm pretending."  
  
Óin looks bewildered. "What's stopping your sleep?"  
  
Rats! He clears his throat. "I..um..." What can he say?  
  
Luckily, Óin inadvertently helps. "What's changed?"  
  
"What hasn't?!" The redhead bursts out. "They're both gone and literally everything has changed! Ask yourself, nadad, what did they use to do that you do not do?"  
  
Óin's eyes, a tiny bit darker than his own, widen. "You miss cuddling?!"  
He looks absolutely incredulous and Glóin pulls away.   
  
"They were still saying goodnight to you up until the time..." He trails off. His throat hurts as though a hard stone is locked inside it. He stands up, looking away from him. "I wish I hadn't told you!"  
  
"Nadadith..."  
  
_"What?"_  
  
Óin gets to his feet, holding his arms out. "Come here."

* * *

  
Adad had been right when he'd told him that staring at someone after they'd informed you of something could be misinterpreted. And that 'what?' wasn't always the best thing to say.   
  
His little brother isn't at all happy with him. He might have his face buried in his shoulder, but he is tense and isn't hugging back as fiercely as normal. Óin gently rubs his cheek against the flaming red locks. "I'm sorry," he says. "I should've known."  
  
Glóin looks up at him. His expression is one of uncertainty. Óin clears his throat.   
  
"You're right, Amad and Adad were saying goodnight to me right up until their...passing. Amad used to sit beside me and cuddle me close and we'd talk about how our day went. She used to smooth my hair and smile at me."  
  
"And Adad?" Glóin is leaning against him, looking up at him, his dark eyes wide.   
  
"Well, he'd vacate his favourite armchair to sit beside me with his pipe. He'd let me cuddle up if I wanted to and he'd kiss my brow and listen to me. Remember how good he was at listening to us?"  
  
Glóin nods. "Yes, I remember."

* * *

  
Óin smiles. "And what about you, nadadith? What was your ' goodnight' like?"

He blinks. "My 'goodnight', nadad?"

"Yes, yours."  
  
Óin doesn't _look_ like he means to start mocking or berating him. "Mammy used to make a story up for me. Or she read to me, and if the night was cold, she'd cuddle me too."  
  
Óin is smiling as though he recalls this himself. Possibly he does. When her sons still shared a bedroom, Sannith used to wrap them in her strong yet gentle arms, her pale golden hair tickling her children as she held them, one son on either side, talking to them until sleep claimed both sons.   
  
"What about Adad?"  
  
"Adad would tell me our stories. Like the day you kidnapped me and wouldn't give me back to Amad."  
  
"Oh, Mahal. I remember that! You know that was exactly 62 years ago. You were so small and sweet back then and I decided that I would like to keep you to myself for the day." Óin grins. "It wasn't fair that Mammy got to hog you."  
  
Glóin can't help but laugh. Óin chuckles a bit too and hugs him tighter. "Nadadith," he says gently. "I should've known, should've remembered that there are things you need. I'm sorry that I was stupid enough to forget this."  
  
"I could've said."  
  
Óin makes a half-nodding, half-shaking movement with his head. 

* * *

  
  
"But the words wouldn't come, would they?" Glóin looks startled. Óin half-smiles at his little brother. "After Amad passed, I wanted to cuddle and cling to Adad more or less all day long."  
  
_"Really?"_  
  
"Indeed. At the grand age of 72, no less! I was like you, little brother, I could not and would not ask him. I was a fully grown Dwarf, I told myself. I was too old, I told myself. So I kept my distance from Adad, which was a very cruel thing to do."  
  
"Cruel?"  
  
"The son who resembled his wife so much wouldn't so much as _look_ at him. It was cruel. One night, he waited until I came home and made me sit with him. He said he understood why I kept my distance."  
  
"But," Glóin says, bewildered, "Da never knew his mother!"  
  
"No, but he had a brother who died. Fundin was the image of our grandfather, remember?"  
  
Glóin nods.   
  
"Da told me that he couldn't even _think_ of his father without getting sad. And then Grandfather had that fall. But they weren't as close even after Grandfather had to stay with us."  
  
"Then they had that row during Winter Solstice. "  
  
"Yes. Adad told me that he loved me too much to allow us to drift apart as he and Grandfather did. He was very gentle with me and got me to tell him what I felt and somehow I confessed that I wanted more physical affection. Which he then gave me." Glóin nuzzles into him. Óin smiles and gently pets his hair. "When you were a little boy, you used to wake me up by jumping on my belly. You'd pester me to read you a story. Or you'd whine at me to cuddle you. When I got my own room, you used to wait for me and clamber into bed and curl up beside me." Óin pauses. "By Mahal, you were a clingy little bugger!"  
  
"I was not!"  
  
"You were!" Óin tells him certainly. "But I never minded. You were a very sweet child. You looked up at me like I was your hero."  
  
"You are."

* * *

  
_"I am?!"_  
  
Why does Óin look so astounded?   
  
"You kept me," Glóin explains, daring to glimpse up at him. "You could've washed your hands of me, but you didn't... "  
  
Óin blinks. His eyes brighten and he leans forward and kisses his forehead before clasping him close again. "I love you so much, nadadith."  
  
"I love you too." Glóin tells him, burying his head into his brother's shoulder.  
  
Óin smiles softly. "Keeping you was my only option, you know."  
  
"Why?" Glóin wants to know.   
  
"Because you're my closest family member and I couldn't bear to lose you."  
  
"No, I mean why do you love me?"

* * *

  
Óin's first thought is 'what a bloody stupid question'. Then he thinks about it.   
  
"Well," he says after quite some time. "I suppose I don't truly know. How can love be explained, nadadith?"  
  
Glóin looks thoughtful . He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know."  
  
"It can't. Love is the most natural thing of all, and so, it is something that makes little sense. I remember when I first loved you, though. Would you like to hear the story?"  
  
The younger brother nods his head eagerly. Óin smiles gently. "Go and get in your nightshirt and into bed. I'll be with you soon."

* * *

  
His brother is as good as his word. The little redhead has only just gotten into bed when the blond enters.   
  
"Budge over, nadadith, I'm not having you hogging the blankets!"  
  
Over he budges and Óin wraps his arms around him. They haven't cuddled in nearly 10 years and, in honesty, he's missed this. He's always felt safe and secure with the strong arms holding him so close.   
  
"On the day you were born, Mammy got very tired. Da could fit you in one hand, imagine! You slept all day and he held you that day until Mammy could hold you herself. You awoke at some point and she gave you your first feed and then, at last, I was allowed to see the new baby!"  
  
"Me?"  
  
"You! You were very pink in the face and you had soft fluffy red hair covering your head and tiny whiskers on your cheeks. You'd fought free of your blanket and you had tiny feet and hands. I put the tip of my finger on the palm of your hand and you held so tightly onto it, I thought you'd never let go. You were so small, nadadith. So adorable, in my eyes. I felt something that day, what I know now is the feeling of love. And so, at the ripe age of 9 years old, I made the decision to protect you from whatever harm might come your way. I promised myself that I'd always look after you."  
  
"Do you still feel that feeling?" Glóin asks sleepily. 

* * *

Óin smiles. "Yes, nadadith. Every day I feel this feeling." He watches his brother go to sleep and kisses his brow again. Messy locks of red lie against neater tresses of pale gold. They're so different. But one thing, at least they have in common. Óin hugs his brother tight and closes his eyes too.


End file.
